


Taking The Black

by WauryD



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, I don't know, apparently, it happened somehow, sexy times implied but not described, the enemies to friends in not included in the story but it happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9793796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WauryD/pseuds/WauryD
Summary: An unexpectedly awkward morning after is made right with the wrong garment.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very condensed version of a longer story that has been running around in my head for a while, that I wasn't really thinking of writing down. Started writing the fluffy ending kinda for Valentine's Day, but it's not set at the right year time, and I've been having various issues with energy and motivation, so I'm posting this late in any case. 
> 
> Enjoy :D

The tangled bedsheet registered slowly around her legs as Brienne emerged from a surprisingly pleasant sleep. Her bed was unusually warm and the sheets softer than she could remember,

until it dawned on her that it was not, in fact, her bed. 

Cracking an eye open carefully, she immediately identified her surroundings as Jaime’s bedroom, which was made obvious in part by the man sleeping beside her.

A short, silent freakout as she furiously tried to remember the previous night. There had been her graduation earlier in the chilly November afternoon, at which Jaime had unexpectedly shown up after nearly a year of being away at Casterly Rock, working for the family company. 

She had spotted him in the crowd from the stage, moments before being handed a roll of paper: he had rarely ever worn a suit in her presence, which was just as well. It would have made her crush hundreds of times worse.

He had found her afterwards, and hugged her every bit as tightly as she had. Snuggled in warmth now, Brienne smiled at the memory of strong arms refusing to let her go. She hadn’t been prepared for the realization of just how much she had missed him, too.

Margaery had eventually interrupted them, reminding her that they were heading out to celebrate at the bars in Flea’s Bottom and inviting Jaime to come along with a suggestive smile. There had been a twinge in Brienne’s stomach at the sight of it. She’d reminded herself that he did not belong to her.

The rest of the night was blurry, and she suspected it would remain as much. The memory of a sizeable quantity of booze for her habits floated somewhere in the back of her mind, and she wondered how she felt so... normal.

And yet, she knew she probably looked terrible - even more terrible than usual. Her freckled, blotchy face would be full of leftover makeup - Marge had insisted for the graduation - half-smudged by the pillow that she now hoped to smother herself to death into.

There was soft rustling beside her, and a warm hand tucked a strand of her hair - oh  _ gods _ , her  _ hair _ must be a complete mess - behind her ear.

“Please tell me you’ve just woken up now,” she managed to articulate, muffled by the pillow.

“I’ve been watching you sleep for about fifteen minutes, actually,” he said with a smile - she could  _ hear _ the smile. “Why are you hiding?”

“Because I look like shit.” She knew the blush of embarrassment that burned her face was visible on her ears, neck, shoulders as well... and she suddenly realized that she was not wearing any pants. Underwear, yes, thank the Seven, and a t-shirt.

_ But she was half naked in a bed with Jaime Lannister. _

How had  _ that _ happened?!

“You look perfectly fine,” he tried to reassure her, not managing to hide the amusement in his voice. “Besides, like I said, I’ve seen it already, so there’s no point.” 

She started wondering what, exactly, he had seen.

“What happened? Last night?” Brienne risked a peek from the safety of her pillow, and watched his smile widen when they made eye contact. He was lying on his side, head against the golden skin of his folded arm. His dark blond hair was cropped much shorter than it had been the last time she’d seen him, and green eyes that seemed to have a grin of their own glided over her with warmth.

“You got drunk,” he announced with a chuckled as she groaned. That was unhelpful information. “Then I suggested I should drive you home, and you insisted that you should come to my place instead,” he added as she felt her blush deepening. “Since I’m leaving in three days.”

It took a few seconds for it to register in her mind, but Brienne understood her previous reasoning: with so little time to spare during his visit, they should spend as much time as possible together, and it made sense that they should sleep at the same place. Well, apartment. Which would have been chosen for the spare bedroom that he had and not she, making her presence in his bed all the more confusing.

Her expression must have showed said confusion, as Jaime continued his explanation. “So I drove us here, made sure you got hydrated enough, made you brush your teeth, helped you remove your makeup - “

“How?” Brienne’s mind was not fully functional, yet it had stumbled on that detail. He might have spare toothbrushes, but he didn’t have makeup remover. She was suddenly terrified of the state her previously-mascaraed eyes were in now.

He gave her a quizzical look. “With the... product you use to remove makeup?”

“Why do you have that?” Her tone was accusatory, and she had no right to be.

“Margaery,” he replied very matter-of-factly, and her heart sank. She would have to watch her best friend with the man - the man she - “She gave it to me just before we left the Stag’s Crown. You were right there,” he finished with a concerned look.

This was beginning to be a bit too much of a rollercoaster of emotions after a night of drinking.

She simply replied, “Oh,” before lapsing into an awkward silence. He still looked worried, so she tried to assuage his fears with a smile and a distraction. “Why am I not wearing pants?” She regretted it the instant it left her lips. She didn’t actually want to know.

Jaime laughed gracefully, explaining that he had set up the guest bedroom for her, left her with a t-shirt and sweatpants for her to wear as pajamas, only to find her climbing into his bed ten minutes later, without the pants, promising not to poke him with cold feet.

Perfect. Less than twelve hours of seeing him for the first time since his awkward departure shortly before the previous holidays, and Brienne had already given him plenty of reasons to run.

They’d been friends for nearly two years after a rocky start. He’d been a pest, she’d tried to deal as best as she received with little effect. He’d followed her through university corridors, blabbering, trying to get a reaction out of her. Then at a Christmas party - she never even went to parties - he’d suddenly become nicer, had confided personal issues and then insisted on kissing her under the mistletoe. 

She hadn't thought he would really do it, but he had, and when she hadn't reacted negatively - or at all, really, she'd been stunned - he'd kissed her again, deeply, breathlessly. Somehow she hadn't blushed then, but blood had flushed her face after, when he'd wished her happy holidays in a half-whisper.

She had fled.

When he caught up with her, he apologized, tried to reassure her that it was not mockery or taunting, and promised her that he wanted to be her friend, and that he would stick around. 

He had. Until the end of the following year. Then he'd left, almost without a goodbye.

And just before he went through airport security, Brienne handed him a wrapped present - a letter-writing kit, with a note that said she'd like him to write to her.

And that she loved him. 

He had written, regularly and at length, but he never said anything of her confession. She assumed that he decided to humour her and kindly uphold their friendship even if he couldn't return her feelings.

There had been the small matter of her having a boyfriend at the time, but she had broken up with him shortly before Jaime had left.  _ Because _ he had been leaving, as she'd realized that no matter how much Tormund loved her, she’d never want to be with him nearly as much as she wanted to be with Jaime.

And now he was back.

For just three days.

He was looking at her with such tenderness, she wondered if he could ever grasp how painful it was for her. Probably not, from the smile he gave her.

“I’ll go make breakfast. You can have a shower if you like.” He paused at that, staring her into a harder blush still, and got up. “Oh,” he turned just before leaving the room, “your clothes kinda smelled like cigarette, from the bars, so I washed them, but I’m pretty sure they’re still drying. You can have a pick of mine in the meantime.”

Yes, she  _ did _ want to be further humiliated in being reminded that she was practically the same size as her tall, built crush.

She watched him leave, sighing discreetly at the sight of his perfect butt. Breakfast was going to be awkward.

When Brienne reappeared in the kitchen, she was already flushed with embarrassment. Somehow, the only two pairs of sweatpants he owned seemed to have been the one he was wearing, and the one she had left in the guest bedroom - to which she couldn’t get without going through the kitchen, half-naked. She’d settled on blue jeans instead, which were tighter than she had expected, and a long-sleeved, black t-shirt.

That was not the reason of her beet-coloured face. Her underwear had also needed a wash, and she’d been left with nothing else to wear.

Jaime raised his head from the cutting board, sucking on a piece of orange, giving her a juicy smile as his eyes looked her up and down. Might as well be out with it.

“I, hum. I borrowed some of your underwear.”

It took a few seconds for him to react. “...what?” Great. She would have to expand on it.

“I - huh, cleaned mine. I just - I borrowed a pair of yours, I’ll wash them and return them as soon - “

“Which kind?”

“...what?”

“Which kind of underwear did you take? What colour?”

This was becoming surreal. “Huh, boxers. Grey. The - the light ones.”

He stared at her for many, long, uncomfortable seconds, before setting down the fruit, wiping his fingers quickly on a rag and walking to her. He stood right in front of her,  _ so close _ she could smell the orange on his breath, green eyes boring into hers before sliding down slightly. For a heart-stopping moment she thought he would kiss her, but he looked further down, and she followed his gaze, to his fingers unbuttoning the jeans.

His thumb grazed the skin of her hip as he exposed the boxers, making Brienne gasp his name in a mortifyingly pleading tone, which made his head snap back up to meet her eyes. He seemed to be leaning into her, and a shiver went through her, exacerbated by the humidity remaining on her skin from the shower.

His lips curved into a grin, and he looked down again. “Hmmm.” She thought her heart was going to beat out of her ribcage. “You should have taken the black.”

She blinked with hurt at that. ‘ _ Taking the black _ ’ was an old expression for vowing celibacy, though usually for men. It took Jaime a moment to realize after he met her eyes again.

“The underwear, I mean. The boxers. You should have taken the black ones. Much sexier.”

For once in her life, she was grateful for already having attained the darkest shade of red her skin could achieve. “I wasn’t - “

The rest of her sentence tasted of orange as a warm hand slid on her thigh, dragging the waistband down below her buttock.   
  
  


 

It took Brienne a few hours of catch her breath again, if only because Jaime kept taking it from her with touches, kisses and caresses in unbearably pleasant ways. He’d finally exhausted himself enough to allow her a reprieve, as he laid cuddled to her side, head on her shoulder, breathing heavily against the soft, disparate flesh of her breast.

It felt like so much needed to be said, and as if it had all been said already.

“I thought you were happy,” he let out in a hoarse whisper. She frowned, half-asleep.

“Happy?”

“With Tormund. I left because I thought it was over,” he explained with an oddly pained voice. She couldn’t form a reply before he continued. “I thought you’d understood, that I... I was going to prove that you could trust me. I stuck around. I did everything I could to show you that I wouldn’t hurt you.”

They’d been  _ friends _ . There had been no question of, of -

“I didn’t think you would learn to let someone else love you before I managed to show you how to let  _ me _ .”

Brienne couldn’t think of anything to say. She’d written it all before, on a piece of paper he never acknowledged back to her. He hadn’t said anything.

“I only opened your gift after the plane took off and I’d gotten drunk. If I’d known... I would have gotten off and ran back to you.”

“And now?” she asked, and it almost caught in her throat. He’d said three days.

“Now I have a few days with you,” he said with a smile, nuzzling her freckled skin, making his intentions very clear. “Then I go back to Casterly and Lannisport for about a week, finish settling a few things I’ve been working on, then I’ll be here in King’s Landing again.”

His fingers were tracing circles and... other things on her hip in a very distracting way, but she managed to find words again. “For how long?”

He laughed, snuggling closer. “I’m going to answer that with a very corny, ‘as long as you’ll have me’.”

She wasn’t sure she trusted all of this to be real, but she smiled and allowed herself to revel in the happiness of it for a while. Twenty-four hours prior, she’d never imagined this was even a possibility - a dream, sure, many of them even, but in reality? It was insane.

They drifted slowly in comfortable silence, which Brienne broke one last time before sleep took her. “I’m gonna have to buy black underwear now, I guess.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really like the line "learning to let someone else love you before I can show you how to let _me_ " :3


End file.
